Of Sparks and Spellfire
by Entwinedlove
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles set in the Harry Potter universe.
1. Lightning Thunder Rain

**Lightning, Thunder, Rain**

 _During that month of convalescence at Shell Cottage, Hermione stumbles upon a book about ancient magics. Near the back of the book is a spell for increased magical power. With some tweaking and a rushed decision, she decides this will help them defeat Riddle._

 _Alternatively:_

 _All Ron could think when she started talking was, "Sex? We're going to have sex? Okay."_

Pairing: Harry/Hermione/Ron  
Rating: Mature  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: threesome  
Words: 764  
Original Release Date: 25 Sep 2016

* * *

They only had a few hours to prepare after she found the spell. Something about the intersection of different types of ancient magics. Ron hadn't paid that much attention beyond her first words.

The thick branches of the tree canopy blocked out most of the sky and the dark clouds above them blocked out much of the light from the full moon. The humid, tepid air that preceded the incoming storm made their naked skin clammy. The night air felt thick around them as they waited for the first rumblings of thunder.

They followed Hermione's lead, all three of them a little nervous. It started out with gentle touches, caresses, and long kisses. She still instructed them, even now. "I know it's weird but we've got to focus on each of us equally. It can't just be about me," she said when he showed hesitance before touching his best friend.

As the storm grew stronger, flashes of light illuminating the pale of their skin, so did their touches. All three were close to losing the control that she demanded they keep. Ron wanted to let go but instead, he squeezed her hand tight under his to try and stave off the inevitable.

Her voice was a crescendo, rising and rising, and when she finally cried out—"now!"—everything happened in a rush. The lightning flashed just as Harry peaked, shouting his completion to the sky. The thunder boomed so loud it shook the ground and Hermione came apart under him. When she did, her hand squeezed too tight around Ron's manhood. That broke the last thread Ron had on his control. He came with a roar as the rain fell from the clouds, drenching them in cold, biting pellets.

In the light of the full moon, Ron could see Hermione's shy smile. The rain washed his seed from her breasts and Harry's from between her thighs. It took Ron a moment to find his courage before he looked up at Harry, hoping things wouldn't be uncomfortable between them now. Harry's eyes were still closed as he panted for breath.

There was another brilliant flash of light and an ear-splitting crack as lightning struck a tree several yards behind Harry. When he opened his eyes they were glowing a brilliant, preternatural green. The crack of the splintering tree blended into the next roll of earth-shaking thunder. Ron's eyes flicked down to look at Hermione. Her eyes had lit as well—a warm amber that reminded him of a cosy fireplace and home.

As the storm dissipated, the lightning and thunder faded. When the clouds finally cleared and the rain stopped, Ron felt revitalized. He no longer felt weary or hungry, just whole in a way he couldn't verbalize. He was still on his knees where he'd finished when he finally looked around. Harry and Hermione had moved over to the splintered tree and sat on either side of it. The tree was smoking and seemed ready to burn.

Harry looked up at him. "Ron! Your eyes, they're—"

"Glowing. Yeah. Yours are too, mate." He looked at Hermione, "Does this mean it worked?"

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and Ron tried not to focus on how it pushed up her naked breasts. "Yes, I believe it did," she opened her mouth like she wanted to elaborate but decided against it. "Everything seems like it worked."

"Think we can go dry off and put some clothes on? Head back to the cottage?" Harry asked, though there was a certain quality to his voice that Ron couldn't identify.

"Yes, of course," she answered. When she stood, the smouldering, lightning-hit tree caught fire and illuminated her body. There was a split second in the firelight that she looked heavy with child, but then the light flickered and she was her normal, lithe—if a bit too thin—self. Ron and Harry followed her to the lean-to she'd set up to dry off, none of their earlier modesty plaguing them.

"Will the glowing stop?" Ron asked.

"It shouldn't be noticeable in the daylight. I'm not sure when the power will fade. I think it will last long enough to defeat Riddle at least."

"Less than a year, though," Harry answered and he focused a look on Hermione that said he knew she was hiding something. She looked over at him as if shocked but nodded.

They dressed and walked back to the cottage in silence. Ron wondered if maybe he should have paid more attention to her when she had explained which ancient magics they would be invoking.


	2. Mistaken

**Mistaken**

 _There was the sound of footsteps, boots scuffing the stone floor behind him. Regulus didn't turn around. That was when he felt a Body-Bind Spell hit him in the back._

Pairing: Regulus/Remus, Remus/Sirius  
Rating: Mature  
Warnings: Dub-Con, Underage (Regulus is 16, Sirius and Remus are 17)  
Tropes: Mistaken Identity  
Words: 1,925  
Original Release Date: 29 Dec 2016  
Additional Notes: Written for TobermorianSass for the December 2016 Rarepair Secret Santa

* * *

Regulus sighed as he walked towards the Marble Staircase. It was the last day of OWLs and he felt wrung dry and exhausted. He'd been so stressed he hadn't even bothered to use the heating charm to dry his hair, so instead of his usual straight locks brushing his shoulders they'd dried naturally and gone wavy, shortening them up to his chin. The same way his brother wore his hair.

It was after dinner and he was not in Slytherin territory. Unless for a class, Slytherins rarely ventured higher than the third floor and here he was on the fourth heading towards a secret passage that would take him back down to the corridor off the Entrance Hall. He'd been up here talking with a portrait discussing the ethical obligations inherent in Charms creation.

The discussion could probably have been carried out with Professor Flitwick, of course, but Regulus rather enjoyed speaking with the woman in the portrait. That she was painted in a see-through nightgown on a cold night was only an added bonus. Regulus ran his palm across the chub in his pants and took another deep breath. That was one of the many things he was jealous of Sirius about. How, if he had wanted, he could have his choice of girls in his bed any night of the week.

There was the sound of footsteps, boots scuffing the stone floor behind him. Regulus didn't turn around. It wasn't like he was actually violating any rules. He didn't hear anything else until he got the fleeting sensation that he was being followed. That was when he felt a Body-Bind Spell hit him in the back. His limbs snapped together and he started falling backwards. The thought that he was going to crack his skull open on the stone floor flashed through his mind but then he fell into someone's waiting arms. Before he could get a look at his attacker, he felt a bag being slipped over his head loosely.

"Like I'd let you fall and hurt yourself," the voice of the attacker said quietly. Then the attacker cast a _Mobilicorpus_ and Regulus floated, stiff as a board, several feet above the floor. He felt something being draped over him and then felt his body being directed down the corridor to the secret passage.

Without touching the floor, or even being wobbled from being carried, Regulus had no way of learning where he was being taken. It wasn't until he felt the coolness of the outside air seep under whatever was draped over him that he realized he had been taken outside. He breathed deeply—both to stave off panic and try and locate where he was being taken. He could make out pine from the Forbidden Forest and rich earth and the slightest hint of sweetness. Greenhouses. He was near the greenhouses.

Regulus would have ground his teeth together if he could. It was just some prank; they—probably Gryffindors—were going to drop him in a pile of fresh dragon manure. He knew the pile was nearby, he could smell it. But then the smell and the temperature changed. From the rush of warm, perfumed air he deduced that they must be inside the vegetable hothouse. Away from the harmful plants and away from the manure. He felt his body being set gently down on something soft. Under the side of his palm, the only skin that touched what he was laying on, he felt the scratchy, soft texture of wool. Whoever it was had lain him on their cloak.

He felt the Body-Bind release but before he could accost his attacker he was propped into a sitting position and bound with ropes. He opened his mouth to shout but then he felt the bag on his head pulled back to reveal his mouth. Then his attacker kissed him fiercely. The kiss was rushed and over before Regulus could even decide if he wanted to return it.

"I'm going to gag you but I don't want to put a Silencing Charm on you. You know how I like to hear you moan," his attacker told him. Regulus's eyes opened wide under the bag still partially on his head and then he was having his mouth stuffed with a handkerchief and something wrapped over his lips to keep the cloth in his mouth.

Regulus felt completely confused. The burlap bag was pulled up enough to only cover his eyes; his nose was free and he was gagged. His hands were bound to either side of his body, not under him, and his ankles were tied to something that kept his legs spread. He hadn't made any noise yet but when he felt the warm hands of his attacker slide under the hem of his robe at his ankles and start pushing it up his bare legs he started whimpering.

What the hell was going on? Had he been kidnapped and brought to the vegetable hothouse and was about to be raped? Molested, at least? His attacker's hands had pushed his robe up to his waist.

"When did you start wearing pants again? I would have figured you would have gone traditional seeing as how you knew what was coming." And then his attacker's hands tugged down his pants, exposing him. Regulus's mind was reeling. _Again_? _Knew what was coming_? And from earlier, _how I like to hear you moan_. Oh, Merlin, this wasn't happening. Regulus's attacker had nabbed the wrong person. Someone who had expected to be nabbed.

Oh shit.

Whoever this was, they thought he was Sirius.

That thought was confirmed when his attacker spoke again. "Not hard either? Did I scare you that badly? Come on, Sirius, you know I wouldn't have hurt you."

Now that Regulus knew what was happening he recognized the voice of his attacker. Lupin. One of his brother's mates. Apparently more than a mate, by the way, he had just grabbed Regulus's cock.

The grip startled him and he yelped behind his gag. He started trying to protest what was happening, trying to convey with noises that he wasn't his brother but then wet heat surrounded his prick and he stopped protesting. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. He'd only ever gotten this far with a girl once and Lupin was much better at it than the girl had been.

Regulus's mind went quiet. All he could focus on was how amazing Lupin's mouth was. Licking, sucking, every so often the slightest scrape of teeth. Then he'd change his angle and Regulus could feel the back of Lupin's throat on the head of his prick, feel the muscles tightening when Lupin swallowed. Regulus panted as much as he was able with a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth and he gave his appreciation with moans and whining. He was so close.

"What the hell is this?" a voice said above him. It took him a moment to place his brother's voice but Lupin must have recognized it immediately because he pulled away. The sudden change in temperature and lack of stimuli didn't stop the freight train that was his orgasm. The span of two heartbeats thumped in his chest and Regulus came with no more help at all. He felt his cock throb and the pooling of jizz around the base as it spurted and then settled. He huffed and whined again, frustrated at the ruined, unfulfilled feeling that spread from his softening cock.

"Rem! How could you? Who the hell is—" Sirius asked, pulling the hood from Regulus's head. He looked brassed off and then shocked. "Reggie?"

Regulus tried to say, 'I tried to tell him,' but all that came out were muffled noises. He glanced around and spotted Lupin who looked back at him with wide, worried eyes and swollen lips.

"I didn't give him a chance to speak, Sirius, I really thought it was you," Lupin said.

The high from his sad, ruined orgasm was quickly wearing off and Regulus started fighting the binds on his limbs. Sirius bent down and untied the binding on his mouth while Lupin cast the counter for the _Incarcerous_.

Once Regulus's hands were free he cast a quick wandless Cleaning Spell and pulled his robes back down to cover himself. He glanced up at his brother's face and then away, feeling heat creep up his neck and face. He made to stand but felt Sirius's hand on his shoulder holding him down.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Regulus looked back up at his brother and blinked. "Sorry?"

"I said, where do you think you're going? You got my birthday blowjob and—"

Regulus's nose wrinkled and he said dryly, "Your birthday is in November."

"—Doesn't matter. You got it, and now you've got to make up for it." Sirius shifted and sat down next to him. "Now, I'm going to take care of Rem and you're going to take care of me," he said with a pointed glance down at his own lap.

Regulus's eyes went wide. "You don't expect me to—? No. I'm not—I'm not—" his eyes darted to Lupin and then back to his brother. "You're joking, you're always joking. I'm going to—" he tried to stand up again and Sirius grabbed his wrist, keeping him down.

"What's wrong little brother? Too scared to give some head?"

"Stop, Sirius, this isn't funny. I don't want to—No. I'm not—"

"Not what? Not gay?" Sirius's gaze settled on Regulus's lap for a long heartbeat before looking back up. "A mouth's a mouth, right?"

"It's… what you're suggesting is incest," Regulus argued his case a bit more articulately. Hoping the disgust on his face was obvious.

"We're Blacks," he said, shrugging, "Just look at our parents."

"Our parents are second cousins! Not… not siblings! That's—" Regulus tried to argue some more but stopped as he watched the smirk start to blossom on Sirius's face. When Sirius started chuckling, Regulus closed his mouth and grit his teeth. "Not funny, Sirius."

"Oh, yes it was. I think you even gagged once or twice there," he said between guffaws. "At least thank Remus for the blow before you leave. Since you ruined our plans for the evening."

"Ruined? I was kidnapped!"

"Then don't wear your hair like that!"

"It's OWL week! I've been exhausted! Just because you're older doesn't mean you're the only one who can let his hair dry naturally, you berk!"

"It's my fault, really, guys—" Lupin tried to say but Sirius had gone on to another argument.

Regulus didn't know how much time had passed since he and Sirius had devolved their arguing into name calling but when he looked up, Lupin wasn't anywhere around. "Oops?" Regulus said.

Sirius stopped mid-shout to look around too. He sighed. "Dammit. Now, look what you've done!"

"Sirius…" Regulus gave his brother a long-suffering look.

"What?"

"Don't you share a dorm with him?"

"Yeah."

"Then can't you get your… 'alone time' later tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Then why are you ready to yell at me again? Why don't you head back up there now?"

"Good idea!" Sirius said, jumping to his feet. He was already moving to leave when he turned back, "That wasn't your… like, first time, was it?"

"Second."

"Right." He pointed ahead of him and strode away.

Regulus brought his hand up to massage his temple and sighed. Now, to find his pants. He wasn't going to leave them behind for Professor Sprout to find, seeing as how they had his name written on them. He might leave Lupin's cloak there, though.


	3. Funeral Raspberry Daffodil Magenta

**Funeral Raspberry Daffodil Magenta**

 _Narcissa hadn't expected to see him there._

Pairing: Narcissa/Lucius  
Rating: General (K)  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 528  
Original Release Date: 25 Feb 2017  
Additional Notes: Written for the Wordsmiths & Betas Facebook group's #DrabbleFriday  
Prompt (24 Feb): Funeral. Raspberry. Daffodil. Magenta. "Not everyone inherits a freaking castle."

* * *

Narcissa ran her hand along her thigh to smooth out a crease in her black robes and then arranged her hat and blusher veil. No need to let anyone know that she hadn't cried over her grandmother's passing.

"Narcissa, darling, are you ready to leave?" Lucius called from her door.

She took slow, metered steps over and opened it, standing tall and tilting her head down demurely.

"Despite the occasion, you look lovely, my dear."

"Thank you, Lucius."

She allowed him to Apparate her, as was proper, to the Black family graveyard hoping that they wouldn't have to spend too long in the dusty, rotten smelling crypt. She was disappointed.

She stood still next to her sister and cousin and waited for the whole thing to be over before it even started.

Laid out on the marble slab that would become her vault, Irma Magenta Crabbe Black was wrapped in an unbleached and unembellished shroud. Narcissa had half expected them to wrap her body in that ridiculous colour seeing as how often she'd donned it in life.

When the eulogy was finally over, given by Irma's younger brother Cinereous Crabbe, the vault glimmered and then sealed itself over the corpse. Narcissa heard Bellatrix sigh in relief even as she spotted Regulus tilt his neck to loosen the tension with which he held himself.

Later, when Narcissa sat primly, ankles crossed just so, and the receiving line had finally dwindled she closed her eyes to relax.

"Hello, my dearest Daffodil," a warm voice purred in her ear.

Her eyes opened quickly and she turned to see Sirius standing, leaning, against the column of the veranda behind her. He was smirking and holding a tiny plate with fruit in his hand, an impish grin across his features.

"Sirius," she hissed, "You can't be here!"

"Why not? Being disowned means she wasn't my grandmother anymore?" He paused to pick up a plump raspberry, biting it in half before sucking it and pulling the rest behind his lips. He'd always played with his food as he'd eaten it. She could see the bright red juice drip from his lips before he licked them clean. "Besides, I wanted to see this place one last time, you know. Not everyone inherits a freaking castle."

She pursed her lips. "You cannot crash a funeral, Sirius, it's unseemly!"

He shrugged, "Who cares. Did any of us actually mourn the old crone? Least they didn't bury her in that awful pink colour she used to wear."

Narcissa felt her lips twitch. She would not laugh. This was their grandmother's funeral, for Merlin's sake! "Are you envious of Regulus for being in line to inherit Black Manor, then?"

He looked at her, most of the playfulness gone from his eyes. "No. I'm not envious. He can have their castle. He can have their favours, and politics, and their love. They never gave it to me anyway."

There was a shuffling sound in front of her and she turned but only saw Regulus as he walked past her. She turned, words already falling from her lips, "I miss you," but Sirius was gone and not even his raspberries remained.


	4. Gold Filigree and Lace

**Gold Filigree & Lace**

 _Bellatrix's death should have counted as a win. It didn't._

Pairing: Hermione/Rodolphus  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: Major Character Death, Dub-Con  
Tropes: Marriage Law  
Words: 1,000  
Original Release Date: 01 Mar 2017  
Additional Notes: Written for a moodboard I created for the HPrarepairnet's February Challenge "Be Mine"

* * *

They shouldn't have counted her death as a win. They shouldn't have. But they did.

Deep in the Department of Mysteries when they all battled around the Veil, Hermione had come to, surfacing through the pain of Dolohov's spell long enough to see Bellatrix about to cast a spell at Sirius. From where she lay on the floor in excruciating pain, Hermione's mind floundered for a spell to stop the other witch.

And she'd cast something.

 _Wingardium Leviosa_? _Mobilicorpus_? She couldn't have told anyone what it was but it had sent the witch half-flying, half-tumbling towards the Veil and right on through it.

She did not come through the other side.

The pain and confusion overcame Hermione and she succumbed to unconsciousness again.

It wasn't until she woke up in St Mungo's and she was told, vaguely, what Sirius thought might have happened that she realised that she might have actually killed the woman. It was a revelation that took all summer for her to come to terms with. She was a killer. Accidentally, yes, but still. The right side of the war had counted the death of Bellatrix Lestrange as a victory for their side.

One less Death Eater. One less Azkaban escapee.

* . * . *

It was during the next school year, Hermione, Harry and Ron's sixth year, that Death Eaters slipped into positions of power in the Ministry. Everything they had endured during Umbridge's reign of terror over Hogwarts the previous year was looked upon fondly when the Ministry started passing new laws and legislation.

When the Ministry demanded Muggle-borns be forced to wear identifying marks, Hogwarts complied and the following day Hermione woke to find every single item of clothing she owned dyed bright red.

When they demanded health screenings of Muggle-borns, on the premise that they might be more susceptible to Wizarding diseases that purebloods had already been exposed to in their youth, Hermione found herself queued with the seven other Muggle-borns in the infirmary to be tested for a wide range of things. When Hermione asked what those things were she was told not to ask questions.

When they demanded Muggle-borns be held to different standards—higher, impossible standards—in the workplace which resulted in dismissals for lack of competency, Hermione felt the backlash when she was barred from five of her nine classes. When she protested and argued she was silenced with a spell and served hours of detention instead.

It wasn't until later in the school year, after Katie Bell had been cursed and Ron had been poisoned, that the Ministry made it's last, and worst, demand. Muggle-borns would need a pureblood guardian, appointed by the Ministry. For any Muggle-born over the legal age of seventeen, that guardian would also serve as a spouse.

Hermione raged. Harry and Ron raged with her. She was silenced. They were told it wasn't their problem. Hermione took her concerns to Dumbledore, distant and evasive Dumbledore. She told him it was a Death Eater plot and he had to help her, even suggesting Professor Snape as her guardian, arguing that he was a Death Eater and must have an in with Voldemort. Dumbledore apologised and twinkled at her telling her not to worry before dismissing her out of hand.

Their legal guardian wouldn't be revealed to them until the appointed date.

Then Harry left the castle with Dumbledore. Death Eaters got into the castle, and Snape killed Dumbledore, leaving the school in disbelieving fear.

And then they were shipped back home. Before the Hogwarts Express entered the station at King's Cross it was stopped and boarded by a group of eight men and women. One sought her out.

Rodolphus Lestrange.

"I'm here for you, Miss Granger," he told her and when she refused to stand he grabbed her arm and dragged her.

"What about my parents? They're going to be looking for me at the station!" she shouted at him.

It wasn't until he Apparated her in front of a large country house that he answered her. "They won't be looking for you. They don't remember you exist at all." The words stunned her brain so much that she followed when he tugged on her hand and took her into his house.

She was provided food on golden filigree plates and more red clothes, proper witches robes and delicate lace underthings that she wanted to burn but didn't, and she finally asked about the legal aspects of her captivity.

"Captivity?" He chuckled, "What do you mean?"

"I am your prisoner."

"You are my wife."

"I will never consent to that."

"You don't have to; the contract is already filled out. All that's left to do is make it binding." He accompanied the words with a smouldering look down her body and it both creeped her out and excited her and she returned to her room more confused at her own behaviour than ever before.

When he knocked on her door an hour or so later he didn't wait for her to give him permission. He came in and handed her something. More lacy underthings, this time in black. "As much as I like red..." he trailed off and gestured to the bathroom for her to go change. She spent the five minutes he allowed her changing and running through every spell she could think of, wishing that she'd heard Dolohov's purple flame spell when he'd attempted to kill her last year.

After two knocks on the bathroom door, she emerged, determined to not feel, to not react, to not encourage him at all in what he was about to do. She expected him to just shove her down and get to it when he shocked her again.

"You are absolutely beautiful, Hermione." He ruined it a second later. "Thanks for killing Bellatrix; I hated that bitch." He paused before reaching for her, "Now come here, wife, and let's see if we can't make you scream." The words _in pain_ or _in pleasure_ were implied, of course.


	5. Amortentia and Decay

**Amortentia & Decay**

 _Antonin Dolohov gives his new wife an interesting option on their wedding night._

Pairing: Hermione/Antonin  
Rating: Mature  
Warnings: Dub-Con, UST  
Tropes: BDSM  
Words: 1,265  
Original Release Date: 12 Mar 2017  
Additional Notes: Written for a moodboard I created for the HPrarepairnet's February Challenge "Be Mine"

* * *

Hermione sat with her legs tucked under her in the burgundy upholstered armchair in front of a roaring fire. The room was lovely, decorated in light greys and deep reds. The mantle was empty of knickknacks and a single full bookcase decorated an interior wall. The exterior wall had a single floor to ceiling window and a door leading to a tiny balcony, both were shaded with heavy curtains. Both were locked. Hermione had checked.

Scarlet rose petals were sprinkled on the coffee table between the armchairs and two tall glasses with a heavy red wine. They'd appeared there when Dolohov had ushered her into the bathroom for a warm bath and left her with only a floor length, white, lacy negligee to wear. She eyed the wine with suspicion.

"Please have a drink," he spoke softly as he joined her in the opposing armchair, picking up one of the glasses and bringing it to his lips. She watched but couldn't tell if he actually drank from it.

"What's in it?"

"Port."

She pursed her lips at his single word answer. He set his glass back down, closer to him, but as it slid back down the side of the glass it seemed to settle into the same stain it originally held and no lower.

"Aside from the wine."

He looked her in the face and narrowed his eyes at her like he hadn't expected her to think it was poisoned. It's not like she was here willingly. It had been his request to his Dark Lord that had brought them to this room, in this odd arrangement.

"I don't think you poisoned it but I wouldn't put it past you to have drugged it. To make things... easier for you."

He tilted his head back as if finally understanding her question.

"What do you think is in it?" He asked.

"Some form of Lust Potion. Maybe a Befuddlement Draught."

He turned his head to look at the fire and nodded his head like he was contemplating something. "And if I told you it wasn't either of those?" he asked, looking back at her.

"You wouldn't have poisoned me, not after going to all the trouble of having me properly registered so you could marry me." The words felt wrong on her tongue. Registering was something one did with a pet or an automobile, not another human being. And the ridiculous ceremony in front of the Dark Lord and his remaining Death Eaters could only vaguely be compared to any marriage ceremony she'd ever seen or heard about. Yet, here she was, wrapped up in white lace like a present he would eagerly open.

She hated every part of this. She hated him. There was at least a thirty-year difference between them, if not more. He'd tried to kill her on more than one occasion. And now she was tied to this man, this Death Eater. She wouldn't drink the wine if there was something that would muddle her mind. She wanted to remember everything, only so she would know what revenge she needed to exact later.

"What if I told you it was Amortentia?" He asked, making eye contact now.

For some reason, the idea of being forced to love or obsess over him scared her more than not being fully in charge of her senses. She tried not to let her fear show but her eyes had widened and the corner of his mouth lifted in the hint of a smirk.

"It's not laced with Amortentia," he confirmed. "It's not laced with anything, actually."

"I don't believe you. You didn't drink any of it."

"I don't want to dull my senses when I touch my wife for the first time. I thought you might want the opposite, something to ease the nerves."

"I'd rather not."

He nodded again. "Fair enough." He gestured across the room, "Then get on the bed."

The air left Hermione's lungs in a rush and then she sucked in a breath too fast. Her heartbeat picked up in an instant and her palms felt sweaty.

"Get on the bed, Hermione." He had moved. Stood and walked toward the bed and only then looked back at her.

"I..." she paused, out of breath somehow, "I... no. No," she repeated, more firm the second time.

"Would you like a Lust Potion, wife?"

"No," she said again, but this time in response to his question. "No, I don't want a Calming Draught, either. I don't want anything to mess with my head."

"I can make the loss of control easier on you but you have to consent to it." His hands paused in their movement of unbuttoning his robes.

"What?" She asked, thoroughly confused. Consent? There was no consent in this situation at all!

He walked toward her, slow and sure like she was a wild animal and would startle easily. He grabbed her hands and held them in front of her with his own. His hands dwarfed hers and she lost another breath when she tilted her head back to realise just how much taller than her he was. He knelt at her feet and she looked at him with confusion on her features.

"If you consent to it, I will tie you down."

She jerked her hands away; that would make things worse! "What? No! Why would I want to be tied down? Do you like the idea of a woman struggling underneath you?"

"No," he said, his voice still calm and low. He retook her hands in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Tying you down, with your consent, gives you the permission to let go and enjoy it. In your mind, you can make the excuse that you didn't have a choice but that's why I will only tie you down if you consent and choose to be tied down. You'll even have a safe word, in case things are overwhelming and you need me to stop."

She stared at him like he'd gone mad but then her brain seemed to click different bits and pieces of information into place as she formed a picture of what he was saying. Bondage. Fantasies. Rape fantasy. Consenting, safe place. Safe words. All words from conversations with her mother, her aunt, her doctor. It still didn't seem like the most appropriate sort of thing to do on one's wedding night. Even if one was a Death Eater.

She shook her head, intending to say no but the word that slipped from her lips was yes.

"Hermione," Dolohov stood and stared into her eyes, "do you consent to be tied down? Wrists bound to the headboard with satin ties reinforced with magic?"

"Yes," she said the word slowly, tentatively, as if it were newly-created and she was trying it out for the first time.

He held the eye contact and raised his eyebrows.

"Yes," she repeated more firmly.

He nodded and squeezed her hands. "Now choose a safe word. Something that will be deliberate and not slip out without thought."

Her eyes wandered the room trying to think of a word that would be easy enough to remember but nothing she would say by accident. Her gaze landed on his Death Eater mask on a set of drawers against the wall. She'd never realised how much like a skull it looked until that moment.

"Decay."

He glanced over his shoulder to see what she was looking at before nodding again. "Will you get on the bed, Hermione?"

She did as he asked feeling equal parts fearful, nervous, intrigued, and excited.


	6. Do You Think We're Bad People?

**Do You Think We're Bad People?**

 _Regulus questions his goodness._

Pairing: none  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: Child Death  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 14 Mar 2017

* * *

Regulus carried the body of the child Travers had killed out of the bedroom and gently set him against the sofa with his Muggle parents. He stood and stepped back, staring at the macabre picture they made. He looked at Rabastan, his best mate, as he entered the room carrying the second body. Boy-girl twins, Mudbloods the both of them. Rabastan dropped the body on top of the others.

"Do you think we're bad people?" Regulus asked.

"Where'd you get that idea?" Rabastan asked with a grin. "Come on, we're done. Selwyn's going to make it look like a fire."


	7. We Always Have a Choice

**We Always Have a Choice**

 _Sirius and Regulus disagree about a lesson they learned when they were alive._

Pairing: none  
Rating: General (K)  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 14 Mar 2017

* * *

Sirius stared at his little brother, the difference in their ages at their deaths a stark contrast. Regulus still had his beauty and his youth while Sirius knew he looked as haggard as he felt.

"You left," Regulus said, the accusation clear.

"I had to get out of that house. Mother and I would have killed each other if I'd have stayed."

"Mother made me take the Dark Mark in your place."

"You wanted it," Sirius argued back.

Regulus frowned and looked away, "Why didn't you take me with you?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"We always have a choice."


	8. What Are You Looking At?

**What Are You Looking At?**

 _Hermione doesn't understand when someone flirts with her._

Pairing: Hermione/Regulus  
Rating: General (K)  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 14 Mar 2017

* * *

Hermione was still having trouble with certain aspects of her life in Limbo. Changing her clothes with just her thoughts was one of them. So Pandora, who had mastered the art of it, challenged Hermione to a dress off. They stood in the middle of the Potter's living room creating fanciful gowns with sequins and lace.

Hermione was wearing a scarlet gown that showed off her shoulders and back when she heard the door open and went to greet Sirius and Regulus.

Regulus's eyes dragged up her body.

She frowned. "What are you looking at?"

He just smirked at her.


	9. This Is All My Fault

**This Is All My Fault**

 _The Marauders fight. Sirius gets hurt. Lily blames herself._

Pairing: none  
Rating: General (K)  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 14 Mar 2017

* * *

Sirius was sitting up in the bed staring at his clasped hands. Next to him was Remus, leaning back dozing. Peter was sitting in the armchair to the side looking at the floor and James was leaning on the arm of the chair with his arms crossed, looking out the window.

Lily stood at the door and watched the four of them. The Marauders. They sat in silence, not even looking at one another. The air in the room was tense with anger and regret and worry. She felt the weight of it choking her.

"This is all my fault."


	10. Blue Veins

**Blue Veins**

 _Regulus wakes up his woman._

Pairing: Luna/Regulus  
Rating: General (K)  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 325  
Original Release Date: 06 May 2017  
Additional Notes: Written for the Wordsmiths & Betas Facebook group's #DrabbleFriday  
Prompt (05 May): Images (a Death Eater, blonde hair being braided, a Dark Mark, a copy of the Quibbler, a person's arms with blue/electric looking veins, a man and woman kissing, a large house alone in a field)

* * *

He didn't know exactly how he came to be in this time. He really didn't care.

Regulus came in from the garden, rubbing a hand on his arm over the sleeve of his jumper to brush off the chill of dawn. Her father's post owl, Archimedes, had brought over this week's draft of the Quibbler and he set it on the counter for her to edit and send back later.

He crept back into their bedroom knowing she was still asleep. Her hair had fallen out of the plait he'd put it in for her and she had starfished since he'd left the bed. One foot hung off the edge and he reached down to run a finger up her sole.

"Come back to bed, Reggie," she murmured.

"My Mark's acting up again, Lu," he said in reply knowing she would understand.

He arrived here after the defeat of the Dark Lord and while the other Death Eaters were left with a burn scar where their Dark Marks had been, his was still clear on his skin. Sometimes it would ache and the muscles in his arm would twitch, making it difficult to rest.

"I've got an idea about that," Luna said.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you experimenting with spells again?"

She just grinned. From where she was laying she grabbed her wand and flicked it towards him. A soothing sensation ran up the veins of both arms, relaxing the ache. When he glanced down at himself he noticed the blue glow.

"Is it supposed to have a visual effect, love?"

She reopened her eyes and raised her head to get a better look at him. "Oops," she said, giggling.

"Oops?" He teased, climbing onto the bed. "I might have to get you for that..." he said, leaning down to kiss her.

Regulus didn't know how he came to be in this time. As long as he had Luna, he didn't care.


	11. We Didn't Tell You

**We Didn't Tell You**

 _Marlene shares a secret._

Pairing: Marlene/Regulus  
Rating: General (K)  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 07 May 2017

* * *

Regulus's explanations and the discussion that followed kept the four of them awake in the early hours of the morning. Finally, when Marlene had yawned again Orion suggested they retire.

"Miss McKinnon can have the guest room on the third floor, Regulus."

Regulus's lips twitched at the look on Marlene's face. "She's carrying my child, Father, I hardly think it matters if she sleeps with me now."

"It's not proper to have an unmarried witch in your bed despite current circumstances."

"Oh, we didn't tell you, yet," Marlene said. "It's not McKinnon anymore. It's Black."

Regulus's smug smile said everything.


	12. Butterfly

**Butterfly**

 _Marcus, Katie, and Oliver discuss their wedding._

Pairing: Marcus/Katie/Oliver  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Threesome  
Words: 635  
Original Release Date: 10 May 2017  
Additional Notes: Written for the HPrarepairnet and Slytherdornet's Love Song Challenge

* * *

"Lauren says it's going to be dubbed the 'first triad in a century'," Oliver said as they all sat down at the table. Marcus laid out a long, partially-curled parchment on the table before moving to the counter to start the tea.

Katie turned on the radio and let it play relatively low. The on-air announcer mentioned that the song they were about to play was a new hit in the US. She turned and sat at the table with Oliver. "Ugh, I don't want to make a big deal of this, I just want to get married," Katie complained.

"Well, that's one of the oldest and simplest triad ceremonies in the Wood grimoire, Bell."

Katie pulled the parchment closer to read over it nodding her head with the heavy bass and rap of the song that played. The ceremony was simple enough and there was even a sketch of the ritual circle. "I still don't see why we have to ...you know, in front of guests."

Marcus brought Katie's and Oliver's tea mugs to the table and stepped back for his. He joined them, setting his mug down and leaning his chair back on two legs. Oliver's eyes dragged over his tightened abs and Marcus smirked at the lingering gaze. The lyrics of the song playing caught Oliver's attention, ' _The only thing I really know is he got sex appeal_ ;' he smiled, thinking it apt. "It's to prevent others from denying its legality. If we don't do this and one of us ends up in St Mungo's from a bludger to the head, the hospital might deny one or the other of us from entering the room."

Katie sighed and pushed the parchment back to the centre of the table. "So all we've got to do is pick the different trees for their meanings and find a practising druid?"

"One of my great uncles is as old as dirt," Marcus said. "He practices."

"Really? I thought druids were long gone," Oliver said, looking impressed.

"That's your Muggle side talking, Ollie," Marcus told him with a grin. Oliver laughed.

"I was thinking we'd get a regular ceremony, you know?" Katie said, sipping her tea. She mouthed 'thank you' to Marcus before continuing. "A big white dress and dancing."

"Well, there's dancing of a sort," Marcus teased.

"Our guests going off to have sex is not dancing, Mark."

"Sure it is," the teasing tone slipped from his voice when he added, "You know the ceremony requires you to vow to have my children too. Do you think that's going to be a problem?"

The song lyrics filled the silence between them, ' _I'll make your legs shake, you make me go crazy._ '

"As long as you can get it up," Katie said offhandedly.

Both boys laughed but it was Oliver that countered, "Oh, he has no problems with that."

Marcus stood, leaving his half-empty mug of tea before reaching a hand out to Katie. "Let me show you how sex can be like dancing, Bell."

"What? Now?" she laughed and looked at Oliver.

"Why not?" Oliver had that sort of smile he got when he talked Quidditch plays, fanatic and wild.

"Are you going to join in?" she asked. The song's beat seemed to throb with the sudden pulse Katie felt between her thighs.

He shook his head. "Maybe later. I want to watch."

Katie swallowed hard and looked at Marcus's outstretched hand. He was so much larger than Oliver, thick muscle banded around his arms and chest. How could anyone as large and bulky as that compare sex to dancing? She took his hand and he helped her stand. She supposed it was time to find out.

The song finished with the refrain, ' _come and dance with me_ ,' as Marcus led them out of the kitchen.


	13. Zoo

**Zoo**

 _Luna takes her dad and his new wife on an adventure._

Pairing: Luna/Rolf, Narcissa/Xeno  
Rating: General (K)  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 490  
Original Release Date: 30 Sep 2017  
Additional Notes: Written for the Fairest of the Rare Facebook group's #DrabbleRoulette  
Prompt: Xenophilius Lovegood, Narcissa Malfoy, Zoo

* * *

Luna rested a hand on her large baby bump. It wouldn't be long now before her twins arrive but today wasn't about her. No, today, her daddy was taking his new wife into the Muggle world on an adventure. Luna was asked to attend to guide them since her husband, Rolf, had taken her.

Just then, Xeno led his wife into the sitting room. Neither were used to wearing Muggle clothes so they both looked uncomfortable and slightly out-of-place.

Narcissa looked down at her bright white sneakers with some distaste. "Are you sure these are appropriate?"

"Of course," Xeno reassured her, "We'll be doing a bit of walking. Wouldn't want to have achy feet."

"Right," she didn't look particularly appeased.

"We ready to go then?" Xeno asked them. Luna agreed and pulled herself up off the couch.

They stepped through the Floo into a private area that Luna's grandfather-in-law had arranged for them and dusted themselves off. She picked up the map on the desk that had her name at the top and watched her daddy tell Narcissa that her hair looked wonderful in a quiet voice. Luna made a note of where the Reptile House was so they could avoid it. Xeno had told her that Narcissa sometimes had nightmares about snakes.

"Where to first, Luna?"

"If we follow the path out this door, we'll see otters first," she answered, pointing to the door marked exit.

They followed the path past otters, lemurs, and meerkats and Luna watched Narcissa pretend to be interested in the little creatures. After that, they passed a sign that said, 'Into Africa' and Luna led them to the largest enclosure. Past the fence, she could see the larger animals, several of which were walking their way.

Their heads swayed on their long necks and their dark splotches shifted over their shoulders as the walked. Out of the corner of Luna's eye, she saw Narcissa's lips part as she looked up at the amazing animals. "What are they?"

A quick glance at her map told her and Luna said, "Giraffes."

"I've heard of those," Xeno nodded, as he too gazed up at the magnificent large beasts. "What about those over there, the grey ones? They remind me of Erumpents."

"Those are rhino-cer-o-ses," Luna stumbled over the word on her map. A young Muggle boy a few feet away corrected her pronunciation. "Rhinoceroses," she repeated, "thank you, sir." He blushed at her thanks and turned away.

"Aren't Erumpents extinct?" Narcissa asked quietly.

"No, grandfather Newt helped create Rescues for them. There are several small herds in Africa that are doing well now."

Narcissa continued to stare up at the giraffes for another few moments before she looked back at Luna with childish excitement shining in her eyes. "What's next, Luna?"

Luna smiled and gave them options, happy that her step-mum was enjoying their first trip to the zoo.


	14. Reciprocity

Reciprocity

 _Irma doesn't do anything unless she gets something out of it._

Pairing: Irma/Horace  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: secret relationship?  
Words: 118

Original Release Date: 8 Sep 2018  
Additional Notes: Written for the Fairest of the Rare Facebook group 5-Sentence Mini-Roulette  
Prompt: Irma Pince & Horace Slughorn

* * *

Irma crept silently along the secret stone passage leading down from the library. She paused to listen for footsteps; very few knew of this passage and even fewer still used it, she would have chosen it for that alone—that her partner in crime already knew about it had been a boon. She turned the corner and startled, almost walking head-first into Horace.

"Do you have it?" he asked, his gaze seemed to penetrate the dimly-lit, narrow corridor.

She slipped the thin, rare Potions text from out of her robe pocket and held it out teasingly to him. Yanking it away when he grabbed for it, she added, "And what are you going to do for me in exchange?"


	15. Babysitting

Babysitting

 _Like any parent, Amos is nervous when dropping his son off with a new babysitter._

Pairing: Arabella & Amos  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 60  
Original Release Date: 8 Sep 2018  
Additional Notes: Written for the Fairest of the Rare Facebook group 5-Sentence Mini-Roulette  
Prompt: Arabella Figg & Amos Diggory

* * *

Amos glanced around, hoping not to appear too nosy while still making note of the surroundings. "Are you sure you're all right taking him for the evening, Arabella?"

She already had his year-old son on her hip, cooing lovingly at him. "We'll be fine, Amos. Enjoy the night out with your wife," she said, offering him a reassuring smile.


	16. I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire

**I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire**

 _Hermione wakes to find a handsome young man fixing her tea. He's a very good listener._

Pairing: none  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Psychological Horror  
Tropes: Trapped in a Nightmare, SongFic  
Words: 859  
Original Release Date: 31 Oct 2018

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes she didn't know where she was. She was in a bed in a sparse bedroom. There was an old song playing softly. She sat up to see a young man her age, handsome with brown hair and a sharp jaw, just setting down a tea tray on a coffee table between two cosy armchairs.

He looked up at her and smiled. "Oh, good, you're awake." He started fixing the tea and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine..." she said, though it came across more like a question. Why wouldn't she be fine? She tried to search her memory about what had happened or why she was here, wherever this was but came up blank.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said. He was soft-spoken and his tone was gentle. "Sugar?"

"Two, please." She was still confused about where she was and who he was but she was sure he'd tell her eventually. He seemed familiar to her; she just couldn't place why. He set the teacup on the table in front of the chair closest to her and she climbed out of the bed to sit in the chair and drink her tea.

She spotted the source of the music when she did, there was an antique radio on a short table against the wall next to the only window. The song had a nice, calming swing beat but she didn't recognise it really. Only identified it as something her grandparents would have listened to.

"Before you fell asleep, you were saying something about a hunting trip, I think? Did you want to pick back up with that?"

Hermione sighed and took a sip of the tea he'd fixed her. She didn't know where to start. This Horcrux hunt that Dumbledore had set them on seemed hopeless. She opened her mouth, only once feeling the urge to not talk about it, that no one should know, but one glance at this man's handsome face and fetching brown eyes had her wanting to confide in him. Surely nothing horrible would come of telling just one person, right?

So she did. She told him all about how she was worried about Harry and his connection to You-Know-Who through his scar, how she had repeatedly told him to close his mind but she was only repeating what little she'd read about Occlumency since she didn't have any practical experience.

The man nodded and listened appreciatively. "Occlumency is extraordinarily difficult, as I understand it. I'm not sure who you would have asked to help train you for it."

She then went on to talk about Dumbledore and how he'd asked Professor Snape to train Harry. She told him about Harry's lessons with Dumbledore before he died, about what Harry had told her about retrieving the locket and how it was a fake.

The man glanced away from her, his brow furrowed as he set down his teacup. Hermione noticed that the song must have been particularly long as it was still playing.

"Would you like a refill?" the man asked, gesturing to the empty cup in her hands. She set it down and let him pour her more as she listened to the song. It eventually came to an end only for a moment before the introductory notes started again. She looked back at the radio thinking that was odd. Why would a radio only play one song?

When the man handed her the refilled cup of tea she thanked him.

"Tell me, how did you find the real locket?"

And again, she told him without sparing any detail. She told him about breaking into the Ministry. About trying to destroy the locket and how it tried to destroy them until finally, the Sword of Gryffindor came to one of them. She told him how that had worked where they had previously failed.

As she was coming to the end of her tale, something seemed to click in her mind. They'd been caught by snatchers! She'd been tortured by Bellatrix! She reached up to feel the knife wound along her jaw but found only unblemished skin. "Harry and Ron, I've got to get to them!" She said, dropping her teacup. It shattered upon impact with the floor but the man didn't seem disturbed by it. "We've got—Bellatrix, in her vault; she's got one!" The pieces of the puzzle her hindbrain had been working on while Bellatrix had interrogated and tortured her finally clicked into place. "We've got to go. Are you coming?" She asked. She had stood and headed for the door but the man's voice recalled her attention.

"Go?" he asked. "There is nowhere to go, my dear. Little. Mudblood." His eyes flashed red and a cruel smile curled his lips. That's when she realized. Something was horribly wrong.

She rushed to the door and flung it open to find that behind the door was a solid brick wall. She went to the window but it was nailed shut. She looked around for something to use to break it but there wasn't much in the room. Riddle was gone.

The song's intro started playing again.


	17. In His Skin

**In His Skin**

 _Teddy has a secret. It's buried in his grave._

Pairing: none  
Rating: mature  
Warnings: Dark, Sociopath!Teddy, Character Death  
Tropes: Stolen Identity, AU, I played with ages, James and Teddy are about the same age in this  
Words: 415  
Original Release Date: 10 Jul 2019  
Written for the Fairest of the Rare, prompt: stolen identity

* * *

It started in Hogwarts. James would want to spend the afternoon reading in the Gryffindor tower so Teddy would shift into James and spend the afternoon regaling his groupies with stories about famous Harry Potter. Teddy always put on a show for James, dropping his shoulders and acting entirely put-upon for having to cover for him in this way. Secretly, Teddy loved it. He loved getting all of the attention of so many people when he was playing James. It was so much more than when he was himself. Yeah, he got a bit when he acted out or for his Metamorphmagus abilities—which were old hat these days and fewer people noticed or cared. No, James was famous just for being Harry's son. "Godson" didn't count.

This little game of Teddy playing James continued when they joined the Aurors together. Sometimes James just didn't want to do his paperwork, so as an excuse to slip into James's skin for a while, Teddy would offer to do it. Even if he wasn't getting all the attention of the groupies, sitting at James's desk writing up his reports made him feel powerful and seen in a way that Teddy Lupin just wasn't.

The only person who could really tell them apart was Harry himself. Half the time he was so busy as Head Auror that he didn't notice for hours. Teddy liked to see how long he could go without Harry realizing he wasn't James. The record had been four and a half days before this.

Teddy hadn't planned it, no matter what anyone might say if they found out. It was standard to have a Polyjuice Potion on one's person as an Auror, as well as healing potions, of course. But this was the perfect opportunity. He and James had been out on a mission and James got hit with a Dark Spell.

He was dying.

Teddy was quick to grab the potions out of his kit. He paused to look at the two vials. One could save James's life... the other... He yanked a few strands of his hair out of his head and added it to the potion. "Here, James, drink."

James drank. Within seconds, the pain of the forced transformation started. "Teddy? What—?" James's words were strained and more blood gushed from the wound in his belly as the Polyjuice worked its way down his body.

As James transformed into Teddy—pain and confusion in his dying eyes—Teddy shifted into James one final time.


	18. Death and the Maiden

**Death and the Maiden**

 _Bellatrix looked forward to their first dance._

Pairing: Bellatrix/Death, Bellatrix/Rodolphus (mentioned), Bellatrix/Voldemort (implied, if you squint)  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: Canonical Character Death, Romanticizing Death and Violence, hinted at underage sexual encounters, first person POV  
Tropes: Death and the Maiden, Personification of Death  
Words: 305  
Original Release Date: 17 Oct 2019

* * *

I have always been able to feel his presence. From his cold humour amongst the stones in the graveyard at the back of Black Manor to his warm gentleness at Grandfather Rosier's sickbed. As a child, before I learned that only I knew him, I used to worry my mother and scare my sisters with talk about the soothing presence who walked with me wherever I went.

I loved the autumns when we'd visit Great Aunt Lycoris's sprawling estate because he would play hide and seek with me around the scarecrows or in the pumpkin patch. I saw his face the first time when Lycoris died in a potions fire a few days before Samhain.

It was his touch I knew before my marriage to Rodolphus, taught and learned and protected in the Forbidden Forest. His touch I missed when the wide-open woods of my youth were enclosed by Lestrange's terraced house and societal expectations.

He always lingered near the Dark Lord, sometimes their visage would blend together before me, flickering from earthly beauty to eternal power. I fashioned our masks in an attempt to recreate the ethereal and infinite combinations they made together.

I killed for him. To draw him to me, to drink in his desire like lust from a crystal goblet. It nurtured me, more than a mother's milk, sustained me until I could call for him next. I flirted with him, brazen in our open affair.

The Dementors distorted my memories of him. Stole his tranquillity from me and made me afraid of the endless darkness of his eyes that I'd once found comfort in. They were bastards of his image and tormented me in his absence.

And in the Great Hall, that ballroom bathed in blood, he offered me his hand. He pulled me into his embrace, and we danced.


	19. Found in Pandora's Trunk

**Found in Pandora's Trunk (Marked Cast with Care)**

 _"If soulmates don't exist," Ginny said, "then nothing will happen if you cast the spell."_

Pairing: Hermione/Sirius, background Ginny/Harry, background Luna/Rolf, background Neville/Ron  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: Sleep Paralysis, Panic caused by Sleep Paralysis  
Tropes: Soulmates  
Words: 1,823  
Original Release Date: 13 Feb 2020

* * *

Hermione found herself staring across her bed at a man she never thought she'd see again. Determined not to shout and wake the rest of the house, she fled her bedroom for the safety of the library to ponder how this had happened.

* . * . *

About six months ago, on a random girls' night spent with Luna and Ginny, they had talked about soulmates. Hermione had been the voice of reason—of skepticism—to their dreamy-eyed flights of fancy, or so she had thought.

Luna had countered her scepticism with a smile and an old book she'd found in a trunk of her mother's old things. In it was a spell about finding one's soulmate. In the margins written in delicate penmanship, in chicken scrawl, and in bubbly letters were three brief accounts that amounted to, "This spell works, cast with care!"

Still, Hermione had doubts.

Ginny, then, always the one to push the envelope, suggested if Hermione thought it was rubbish then she wouldn't have any problems casting the spell. To prove them wrong, of course.

All Hermione could do after that night was blame her actions on the drinks they had all been consuming.

The spell was supposed to work in four months but to allow Hermione to come to terms with the results (if there were any), Ginny and Luna had declared Valentine's Day to be the day of the reveal. Come Valentine's Day, if Hermione had not come into contact with her soulmate and fallen in love, then Luna and Ginny would be suitably convinced in her argument that soulmates didn't exist.

They departed that evening and Hermione hadn't thought much of it, especially as work grew crazy and life carried on and nothing happened. No man fell out of the sky at her feet. No one looked at her in a new light. Everything was the same.

Except...

Well, Hermione started to have dreams. Erotic dreams... She couldn't see the man's face but there was something oddly familiar about him. The dreams were so filthy and sexy they embarrassed her, an adult woman who had been in several relationships already.

But sex dreams did not have anything to do with soulmates. Maybe her subconscious mind was just trying to help her alleviate stress.

A little before the Christmas holidays, Hermione started to get a bad case of daydreams. Every evening as twilight settled in, she would somehow pause whatever she was doing. When she roused herself, it would be an hour later and she had the feeling that she'd had a fulfilling conversation with someone she admired and cherished. The "about what?" and "with whom?" questions evaded her like a book on a high shelf, where even on her toes with her arm outstretched only her fingertips could lightly brush the spine. She wouldn't be able to retrieve it without assistance.

The day before Valentine's Day was rather uneventful. Harry had asked several of his friends to help him do a thorough deep clean of Grimmauld Place as he was still undecided about selling it or keeping it. The seven of them—Harry and Ginny, Luna and Rolf, Ron and Neville, and Hermione—spent the day up to their necks in doxies, dust, and dead bugs. With Kreacher's passing, the house had been locked up tight and warded against weather damage but the inside was filthy and in need of a good airing out. Despite the cold weather of February, all the windows had been opened and they'd tossed almost everything that couldn't be repaired satisfactorily. Or if it was snake-themed. They'd worked late into the night and Ginny insisted there was still enough beds in good shape for them all to spend the night.

Unfortunately, the bed Hermione used to occupy when she would visit this house was one that had been too far past saving and she was left with what had been Sirius's bedroom at the top of the house. Even now, so many years since his passing, this room was difficult for any of them to clean and they'd only done a cursory job of it before moving on to other rooms.

Despite the tiring day, Hermione had trouble finding sleep. She tossed and turned and when she finally slipped into sleep, it wasn't restful. At one point, she started dreaming about the Department of Mysteries. It was only natural, she had thought often of Sirius as they were cleaning out his house and that's where he had died. She hadn't seen it but Remus had told her what had happened. In her dreams, she walked close to the Arch. She could hear whispers, voices calling out, but she couldn't decipher the words.

She opened her eyes to find herself back in Sirius's bedroom. She thought she saw someone standing at the side of the bed but her eyes were already drooping closed again.

She was back at the Arch, so close that she could see the threads and the raw edge of the fabric curtain. She could just make out words now, "help," "trapped," help us." There were so many voices. She braced her left hand against the stone edge and slipped her right hand past the curtain. It was cold and she could feel hands touching her hand, her arm. Grabbing at her, tearing at her sleeve.

She opened her eyes, feeling her heart still racing from the dream. Her arm was still cold. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the figure in her room. He was closer and she still couldn't tell who it was. She was suddenly scared. Who was it? Why was he just standing there? What did he want? She tried to sit up, to shift to address the stranger, but her movement was sluggish... or, no, she wasn't moving at all. Was she under a body-bind? She wanted to scream out, felt her mouth open to do so, but no sound escaped her. She fought against the bind for what felt like hours but nothing lifted it. She closed her eyes.

Beyond the Veil, someone's hand clasped hers tight. She thought she heard the words, _It's time_ , and she wanted to question them but instead, she pushed against the stone with her left hand, using it as leverage to pull. The rough stone bit into her and her muscles burned with strain and she slowly dragged the one person holding her hand beyond the Veil back through it.

With an almighty thunderclap, the Veil let go of its victim and the person clutching at Hermione tumbled through with such force that it knocked them both back and onto the floor. This time when Hermione opened her eyes she shot straight up in bed. Her heart was racing, her right arm was tingling, her entire body felt like she'd exercised to fatigue. A shaft of moonlight lit the bedroom enough to see that no one was standing at the foot of the bed.

A groan alerted her to the fact that someone was in the bed next to her. Startled out of her wits, she jumped off the bed and stared back at the figure. When Sirius Black looked back at her and grinned she fled the room, unable to comprehend what the hell had happened.

* . * . *

Sirius found her in the library, sound asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace. He looked down at her and smiled, unable to believe that she'd somehow been able to drag him from the Veil, where he'd been trapped for so damn long. She looked older, not a child anymore, and he wondered how long he'd been gone.

He decided to leave her to sleep and turned to head towards the kitchen when he heard two other women's voices.

"Is she really up this early?" the first—what sounded like Ginny Weasley—said through a yawn.

The second sounded soft and confident but Sirius didn't recognize the owner. "Well, she's not in her room. Maybe she's off with her soulmate."

"Or more likely, she's in the library."

The door opened and the two women entered the room. They stopped short and stared at him. The blonde with a pleased smile on her face and Ginny with a worried look. She was quick with her wand and loud when she barked a question at him, "Who are you and what did you do to Hermione?"

It woke Hermione from her slumber. "Ginny? Why are you yelling?"

"There's someone that's Polyjuiced to look like Sirius standing here, watching you," Ginny called back.

"Sirius?" Hermione said, sounding confused. He turned around to look at her and something seemed to register in her mind. "How in Merlin's—"

"Told you the soulmate spell works," the blonde said, interrupting the standoff.

Sirius, Hermione, and Ginny looked at the blonde.

Sirius spoke first, "What? Soulmate?"

"I thought it was just a dream, a nightmare... Are you really here? How are you here?" Hermione asked, standing up and coming closer to him.

"Hermione, stay away from him. That's not Sirius!" Ginny said, wand trained on him.

Sirius was trying very hard to think of a security question he could answer when a man's voice called across the house. "Hey, Harry? This tapestry is doing something weird, you'd better come have a look."

Ginny shared a look with Hermione, then with the other woman, before backing out of the room. The other two women followed and Sirius did as well.

Quite a few people were gathering in the drawing room but Sirius only had eyes for two of them. Harry and Hermione were at the tapestry.

"What does this mean? Hermione, do you know what's happening?"

"It's the soulmate spell," the unnamed woman said again. "It married them."

"What?" Sirius asked again. He strode towards the family tree, ready to see his burn mark. It wasn't there. His portrait had repaired itself and a new golden line connected him to a new portrait with wild brown curls. Hermione's name was stitched underneath.

Harry turned to him and stared. "Sirius? Is that really you? How—You were dead!"

"I was trapped. Beyond the Veil. Hermione found a way to pull me out."

"But I didn't! I had strange dreams but I—" she paused midsentence before looking to the blonde.

* . * . *

Hermione's mind was racing. "Luna?" she started to ask her friend but other things started to click into place. The erotic dreams with the mysterious lover, the fulfilling conversations with the mysterious man... that she admired, that she cherished. She looked back at Sirius. He looked more youthful somehow, yet he otherwise seemed the same as she remembered. There was something about his eyes, though, something about the way he was looking at her. Like he cared about her deeply. Almost as if... he loved her.

Like she thought she might love him. Luna's soulmate spell actually worked.

"Holy shit, Luna."

Luna only giggled happily at her apparent handiwork.


	20. A Thief's Wife

**A Thief's Wife**

 _Hermione has to go undercover on a mission for the Order. Her partner leaves much to be desired._

Pairing: Hermione/Mundungus  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Foul Body Odour  
Tropes: Mission fic, Pretend Couple  
Words: 397  
Original Release Date: 27 Feb 2020  
Additional Notes: Written for RairPair_Shorts community on Dreamwidth for their fest Number Game 2020.

* * *

Tonks was putting the last finishing touches on Hermione's disguise while they waited. "It's just for the mission. Only outward appearances, yeah? If he tries anything with you, remember that spell I taught you; no one's going to complain if he comes back with the inability to father children."

Hermione released a tense little giggle. "I know, I keep telling myself 'it's for the mission, it's for the mission' but I'm having a hard time with it."

"I wish I could go in your place but—"

A crack and a crash interrupted her and Mundungus stumbled into the back door of Headquarter's kitchen. "I'm 'ere, I'm 'ere."

"Do you have it?" Tonks asked trying not to wrinkle her nose as the stench of body odour proceeded his movements.

"'course I got it," he said, handing _it_ over. The wedding band he handed her was warm from his pocket but also as little sticky. Tonks frowned and cast a _Scourgify_ at it before handing to Hermione to put on. Mundungus had continued talking, "'course I 'ad to, eh, _convince_ a couple a wizards and a witch that—"

"We get it, Dung," Tonks said. "You stole it."

He scoffed, "I di'n't steal nuffink!" He waffled for a minuted before adding, "Only borrowed it." He looked at Hermione, who had attempted a smile in his direction; the expression looked more like a grimace. "Oy, you don' 'ave to be lookin' like I'm foul or nuffink, I showered."

"When?" Tonks fired back.

"Er..." he said, stalling like he needed time to think about it. Tonk shared a commiserating glance with Hermione.

"Just know, Dung, that if you touch her arse, I'll personally make sure you join Moody in the 'missing body parts' club, understand me?"

He raised his hands up to ward her off and another invisible cloud of unpleasantness wafted her way. "All right, all right, I got it." He looked Hermione over and nodded. "Now ain' 'choo somefink..."

"Dung..." Tonks warned.

He winced a little but didn't say anything more, instead, he held out his arm like he was going to escort Hermione like a gentleman. Hermione tried to smile again as she took his arm but it was also a failed attempt.

"Maybe just... don't try to smile?" Tonks suggested as she handed them the coat hanger Portkey. Hermione shared one more look with her before they disappeared.


End file.
